


it’s a new day

by fleury



Category: Tiny Meat Gang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Groundhog Day, M/M, Time Loop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 04:51:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21314476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleury/pseuds/fleury
Summary: He could do anything and everything that he could possibly think of, but.At the end of the day, he still gets that letter.
Relationships: Cody Ko/Noel Miller
Comments: 16
Kudos: 109





	it’s a new day

**Author's Note:**

> love magic in fics love love love, introducing my single most favourite fic trope !!

It’s March 16th, 2009.

Cody’s alarm clock goes off to the sound of AM radio, and he can barely find it in himself to move. Let alone get out of bed and make his breakfast or go for a run, or do literally _anything_. The world feels so very far away. 

He skips his run and slaps some peanut butter on a piece of toast. Shamelessly, he downs half a bottle of gatorade because caffeine is caffeine. 

It isn’t a breakfast, not one his mother would be proud of anyways, but his parents aren’t home and he thinks he’s free to do whatever he wants because of it.

He hangs half off the good couch in the living room, watching Sunday morning cartoons he used to watch when he had all the time in the world. The floor is cluttered with his things and a bunch of his homework is gathered on the other couch, but he promises himself he’ll worry about it later. 

His father brings in the mail, later in the day, and Cody gets a letter from UCLA. 

Noel goes to UCLA and—his heart jumps into his throat. Just thinking about it, everything underneath him feels so unstable.

All he wants to do is make it in. It’s all he wants.

He asks his mother to read the letter to him. He sits on that same spot on the couch, with his homework still glaring at him, and watches her skim over the words. 

He looks away and when he doesn’t find solace in the ceiling, he shuts his eyes.

His mom says, “oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” And everything collapses

+

Cody wakes up in the morning to AM radio. He listens closely, hears things about how their winter decidedly won’t let up until early April. One of the guys on the radio laughs and says, “welcome to Calgary,” and Cody groans into his pillow.

He eats a shitty breakfast. Half a bottle of gatorade, peanut butter on toast.

He watches Sunday morning cartoons, the same exact episodes. He makes an empty promise about homework to himself, and feels exhausted until his father comes in with the mail.

Cody asks if any of it is addressed to him and his father beams like he’s never seen him smile before. Something in Cody’s stomach hurts, like it just won’t settle down, and he swallows hard.

He asks him mom to read him the letter, _UCLA_ printed on the envelope in big, bold lettering.

With these agonizingly brittle edges, she says, “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”

Cody breathes in. Out.

+

Cody wakes up on March 16th, 2009. 

He doesn’t listen to a word of AM radio. He doesn’t eat a breakfast. The gatorade bottle in the fridge is just half. Not half full, or half empty. It’s half. There is no looking into it.

He spends his morning doing calculus, frustrated with himself. He would sooner die than flip another page in his textbook.

He finishes his work and shoves it all into his backpack. Then, he stuffs his bag underneath his bed and he doesn’t want to acknowledge anything that has anything to do with school. 

His father hands him a letter.

Cody says, “I’ll look at it later.” 

His father twists his mouth to the side. He says, “I’m sure it’s good news. You know, no matter what it is, you only deserve the best.” 

Cody pinches his eyebrows together and stares down at his hands. There’s a smudge of pen against his palm and a small paper cut on his index finger. 

He shrugs, slowly. “Yeah.” 

+

Cody doesn’t get out of bed. 

He slams his hand against the alarm clock sitting by his bedside and buries himself underneath the covers. 

A minute goes past. Five, ten, and Cody finally wills his way out past the covers. 

He laces up his shoes, goes outside, and runs until he can barely breathe. The air is cold and it suffocates him, but Cody thinks he prefers it over the dry heat in his house. He likes the way the cold punches his breaths out of him. 

He gets back home, makes himself a protein shake, and only drinks as much as he can without feeling sick. 

He stares at the cup. It’s half. 

Cody dumps out the rest.

This time, he asks his dad to read the letter to him. His dad says, “you won’t ever be independent if you ask me to do everything for you,” and Cody hurts. 

+

Everyday is a little different. But somehow, it’s always the same. 

Cody could go out and get arrested, he could run away, he could fly down to LA right fucking now and see Noel and try not to cry when his mother calls him with the news. He could do anything and everything that he could possibly think of, but.

At the end of the day, he still gets that letter. He still gets rejected.

+

He goes out, first thing in the morning, and buys himself the biggest tub of ice cream he can find. It’s all cookie dough, and it melts just slightly on the drive home. 

He eats more than he would normally allow himself to, surfing through channels and looking for anything new. Anything that isn’t a rerun, that isn’t something he’s already seen before.

Part of him thinks that isn’t possible, not when this day is something he’s seen over and over and over. 

He curls up and he reads the letter as it’s handed to him.

His heart breaks word by word.

+

“There are so many other wonderful universities all over the country, you could go anywhere else. Anywhere,” his mom says, and she’s wearing this sad smile that doesn’t make anything better.

Cody looks at her and all he feels is guilt. For not trying harder, for not cheering her up, for being the way he is. 

+

It takes him ten iterations of March 16th to finally dial up Noel’s number and hold his breath while he listens to his phone ring and ring and ring. 

When Noel picks up, he says, “What’s up, man?” And he sounds so, so happy to hear from him, so wonderfully familiar, and Cody shuts his eyes because he doesn’t trust himself to keep the tears back

“Hey,” he says. It doesn’t come out as light as he wants it to. “I just—wanted to hear from you. I miss you, you know that?”

He doesn’t tell him. They just talk and talk and it’s the most difficult thing Cody has ever done.

+

Cody goes on a run again.

He doesn’t know why, but he does. He takes a new route, then tells himself there’s no point to it when he’s 7 kilometres from his house and winded. 

But if he goes home, everything will fall back into place. Just like it always does. 

He calls Noel when he’s walking home. The wind is harsh into the phone, but they still manage steady conversation. Cody wishes he could see him. 

Maybe Noel knows. Maybe his parents called him. They would’ve gotten home by now. Maybe this is all just Noel trying to make him feel better. Noel being Noel.

When Cody gets home, he sees the letter on the counter, untouched. Wordlessly, he throws it in the trash. 

+

Cody calls Devon and he doesn’t pick up.

Five minutes later, Devon calls back. He says, “sorry I missed you, my phone was somewhere under the fucking car seat.” 

Cody laughs. It’s unconvincing and he knows it. 

“Um.” He stares at the letter in his hand and says, “I didn’t make it into UCLA.” 

That’s the first time he actually says it out loud. Suddenly, it feels real. 

“That’s bullshit,” Devon snaps. “Are you kidding me? Fuck that school, man. What do they know?” 

“It’s okay. Dude, seriously.” That’s all Cody knows how to say, all he can trust himself with.

Because he wants to tell Devon everything. He wants to tell him about how he keeps waking up on a Sunday, how he keeps hurting, how he keeps hearing the same news in this endless loop of torture.

But it sounds crazy. 

“You’re gonna come visit,” Devon says. “All the time. No choice.” 

Cody can’t breathe. “Right.”

“Have you called Noel? Does he know?” Devon speaks carefully, his voice coming through the line softer now. It’s nothing like him.

When Cody says, “No,” it doesn’t feel like a lie.

+

Cody drives down the freeway until his car’s clocking in at speeds he’d never even think to touch before today. Or, well, before the seventeenth time he’s lived today. 

He lets go of the wheel and closes his eyes and the way the air hits his ears through the windows is nearly deafening. But there is something so peaceful about it. So beautiful. It’s a whole different world. 

Cody could drive as fast as he can, jump provinces and even cross the border, but he’d never outrun this. He knows that. 

+

Cody lives out March 16th more times than he has throughout his entire life and he doesn’t feel anymore mature because of it. He hasn’t grown, he hasn’t learnt something valuable, he isn’t a better person now.

He locks himself in his room and buries his head in his hands and wishes this would stop.

+

Cody stares at the letter sitting on his desk, looking flawless if it weren’t for the envelope Cody ripped up to get to it. He doesn’t know why he keeps expecting it to be different.

The ringing in his phone cuts out and Noel says, “What’s up, man?”

“A lot,” Cody says, too honest, too sincere, but he doesn’t have much to lose. “Sorry, I mean. Can we talk?” 

“Oh, shit, is it serious?”

Cody doesn’t know how to answer. He mulls it over for a moment, says, “It’s just. You know you mean a ton to me, right?”

Noel’s quiet for a moment. Not too long, but just enough that he puts Cody on edge. “Yeah—yes, of course.” 

“I just think you have the right to know that I love you.” Cody feels his throat click and tries to swallow around it, the words leaving this bitter taste on his tongue. His heart is beating and beating and it hurts. 

“I don’t, uh, I don’t understand,” Noel says. 

“Shit,” Cody breathes out, scratching a hand through his hair. He feels like an idiot. “I love you. I don’t know how it started or when it started, but I know I love you and. That’s it.”

“Oh.” There’s a little breath, then a door shutting, and every moment that Noel doesn’t say anything, Cody’s stomach sinks further down to his feet. “Wow, this is. This is a lot.” 

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m stuck in—a rut. And I needed to get this off my chest.” Cody digs his nails into his thigh, keeps staring at the letter. Until it’s burnt into the back of his head. “I’m just so tired of keeping it from you. I’m tired of living with it every single day, tired of acting like everything is perfectly fine when it’s _not_. I don’t know how to pretend anymore.”

“Cody, hey, calm down,” Noel says, and Cody feels it in his chest.

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” Noel’s voice is so steady, so careful. “I think we should talk in person. I wanna see you.” 

Cody says, “I didn’t get into UCLA.”

He hears a quiet, “oh, Cody.” Then, “You know that doesn’t matter to me, right? We—we’re going to stay in touch no matter where you go.” Noel pauses. “Look, you’re important. I’m not shallow enough to drop you because you won’t be within a five minute drive. And. I like talking to you, it doesn’t matter how.”

Cody smiles down at his hands. He says, “Okay.” He says, “It’s getting late. Call me tomorrow?” He doesn’t know if there’s going to be a tomorrow, but he can hope.

“Yeah. Good night.” 

“‘Night.” 

The room is silent and Cody is alone again.

+

Pink light streams in through the curtains in his room and Cody wakes up to AM radio. He doesn’t move for a long moment. He’s afraid, he can admit as much.

When he gets up, there’s a letter on his desk, the envelope left behind it is torn to bits, and Cody nearly starts crying. He doesn’t know how he feels, doesn’t know what it means that his chest goes tight and his hands are shaking, but.

He feels okay. 

There’s a text on his phone from Noel, and everything that happened last night comes rushing back.

It says, _hope u kno i do like u, always been weak for pretty boys_

Cody smiles to himself. He types out, _very smooth_ and thinks, this’ll be alright.


End file.
